


Spies with Biscuits

by storm_queen



Category: Cooking With Spies
Genre: F/M, Innuendo, Spies with Badges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_queen/pseuds/storm_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Velma the Wine-Knower after she never again worked in television?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spies with Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bliumchik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bliumchik/gifts).



On Sunday night, after crying and crying while watching _Racists Roadshow_ and tearing up every photograph she had ever taken with Ken the Presenter or the network president Barney Boss (Betty Boss’s brother), Velma the Wine-Knower was staring sadly into her glass of 2003 Bloody Nails merlot. The 2003 Bloody Nails merlot sometimes gave Velma the Wine-Knower a headache if she drank too much, which was why she was still sad. She had decided to drink half the bottle. Then she heard a knock at her door.

Velma the Wine-Knower blew her nose, then went to look through the peephole to see if she could tell who her visitor was. The view through the peephole was obscured by a fake plant, which meant it was probably one of the spies.

“I’m not feeling well,” Velma the Wine-Knower called through the door, which was the truth. She had an awful headache.

“I brought you a present,” her visitor called, and Velma decided to open her door just long enough to accept her gift. But when she opened the door and saw Sam the Spy standing on the other side, holding the fake plant in one hand and a plastic box of supermarket biscuits in the other, she almost shut the door again right in his face.

“Wait!” Sam the Spy said. “I came to say I was sorry that you will never again work in television.”

“You should be sorry!” Velma the Wine-Knower said. “You betrayed me!” She was afraid she was going to start crying again, so instead she kicked the wall, hard. Sam the Spy pretended she had not done that.

“But doesn’t that make me more interesting than a normal spy?” he pressed. “Knowing that I could turn on you at any moment and stab you in the back?”

“No,” Velma the Wine-Knower said. “It means I will never trust you again.”

“But I brought you biscuits,” said Sam the Spy. He held up the plastic box. The biscuits were white with yellow frosting that looked like earwax. “I thought you could tell me what kind of wine would go best with sugary vanilla and sprinkles.”

Velma was tempted by his offer. But she was not yet ready to forgive him. “You were my favourite, Sam the Spy,” she said sadly. “Now I don’t think I even like you anymore.”

“Don’t blame me,” said Sam the Spy. “I had to do it, or risk a bloodbath on live television. Betty Boss would never have forgiven me if I had gotten her brother fired, and my shadowy paymasters would have stopped paying me if I had baked a cake shaped like the Brandenburg Secrets Archive.”

“So why did you not bake a cake shaped like something else?” Velma the Wine-Knower asked. She thought it was a very reasonable question.

“I got a badge for the pizza,” Sam the Spy explained. 

“You love your badges more than you ever loved me,” Velma the Wine-Knower accused and Sam the Spy could not argue. He just stood there pondering his existence and his life decisions until a new idea came to him.

“If you will show me what sort of wine goes best with slightly stale, sickeningly sweet biscuits,” he said, “I will show you my badges.”

Velma took a deep breath. She could not believe what Sam had just suggested to her.

“All of them?” she asked.

“All of them,” Sam promised. “I will even let you touch them.”

Velma the Wine-Knower took another deep breath. She knew it made her weak and spineless, but she wanted to see Sam’s badges very much. He was, after all, her favourite.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back from the doorway. “I have the perfect wine for you.” 

After that night, not only did Velma the Wine-Knower never again work in television, but she never again saw Sam the Spy. But that was alright, because she still remembered the smoothness of his badges under her fingertips.


End file.
